Beauty

The morning sun, or the cool night moon?

A soaring peacock, majestic as ever,

Or the brave swan?

The endless sea of blue, or the blanket of stars?

A blooming rose, or a full-blown lily?

Jasmin or a jade? A diamond or a ruby?

Which is it? The beauty of all.

Gold or silver? One can never say.

But what can be said is said: Beauty is the universe,

The all and every of it.

But still, a wonder still, what is true beauty?

If it can ever be seen, let it be.

Rumor, as ever, always speaks,

One with the beauty of all,

But still not ascertain ever would one be,

Same as some.

The universe still, it's said.

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